


Confessions of a Fan

by skylanterns



Category: Sexy Zone
Genre: F/M, I know the title sounds like a bad shoujo manga, I think it really is, I'm not expecting anyone to read this, Not Beta Read, POV Female Character, but I just have to get it out there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:09:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylanterns/pseuds/skylanterns
Summary: I was a mere fan, a tiny speck in hundreds of thousands of fans around the world, with no hope of getting noticed. Not that I was aiming to do so, anyway. But it happened.
Relationships: Sato Shori/Original Female Character
Kudos: 5





	Confessions of a Fan

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and this is very self-indulgent. Please read at your own risk.

It was one winter day, when I asked my friend—jokingly, of course— if there was someone he could give my contact info to another person so I could talk to them and maybe pass the time. Talking was my hobby, you see. Very small number of people could keep up with me, and one of them was my friend. Little did I know, he actually gave it to someone. 

Our conversation was forgotten in my head and then a few weeks later, I got a friend request. Curious, I accepted it and a message came not a second later. We started to talk after that, if you could consider simple English words and phrases coming from them. I soon found out that his name was Shota, and he was Japanese, with very little fluency in the English language. But it made sense, my friend was based in Japan so it should’ve been expected. I tried to teach him—my new online friend— some words, but without completely knowing Japanese I could only do so much. He said he started learning from his colleague for a few minutes every day, and that adding words to his vocabulary was so much fun. On my end, I started to take Japanese language classes every weekend, and soon earned my JLPTN-5 certification. Our conversations were always a mix of English and Japanese, teaching each other stuff, picking up the most random topics, and even greeting each other with the other’s native language. There were other things I noticed about him, that he was a total simp for his dog (my observation, not his actual words), and that his work didn’t let him use his phone and could only touch it after, usually when it was very late at night. I always stayed up late for him, because our conversations were the only thing that made me happy after a very tiring day. I think it was the same for him, because if he was an hour or two later than me, he was exerting more effort than I did, right?

The talks we had went on for more than a year, but he never showed a single picture of his face. Or even his dog that he loved so much. All of the things he sent me were pictures of food he cooked (which looked very appetizing), or some random things that he thought I’d like if I came to his country. I know their people value their privacy very much, and I respect his, but when I asked him if I ever came to Japan, would I be able to see him? He left me on read and kept typing and backspacing for five excruciating minutes, that I began to clean my room out of nervousness and nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone dinged.

With shaking hands, I carefully opened our conversation and he only said, “Who knows?” Confused and I admit, a little bit hurt, I asked him to elaborate.But he dodged the question and changed the topic. Giving up, I tossed my phone on my bed and continued cleaning.

Because I’m so curious, I even asked my friend (the one who gave my contact info) if he really knew the person I was talking to online. He said yes, but he told me that it wasn’t his story to tell. I tried to get through him but to no avail. He didn’t even budge.

  
  


Another year passed, and we were talking normally when I casually told him that I was getting interested in Japanese idol groups. Which turned to another round of dodging and avoiding the topic. We stopped talking after that for a few weeks. Partly because my work deadlines were catching up, and partly because I was a little annoyed why he gave so little interest in something I liked, which usually never happened. He messaged me everyday, but I barely responded with the excuse of being busy.

But the sudden change of routine was getting to me. I missed talking to him. I missed telling him about how my day went, or how he would tell what cute thing his dog did. Swallowing my pride, I messaged him first. I received an instant reply. He apologized and I forgave him. But our talks diminished little by little, everyday became every other day, and then it became once every week, until we reached the point that we message each other once every few months. 

I was fine. I joined the international Johnny’s fandom, and became so busy and distracted with all the fun and content that changed almost every day. I almost forgot about him. Almost. There were times that I couldn’t stop myself from reading back on our conversation, but I was not brave enough to message him. I didn’t even know what to say. All I cared about at that time was the fandom I was into, and he’d probably shut me down the moment I opened the topic to him.

It was about six months since we last talked, and work and fandom was eventful as ever. My vacation leave was finally approved, and I flew to Japan to watch a concert and stayed with my friend. Gathering up the courage, I opened our conversation and typed, “Hey, I don’t know if you still remember me but I’m in Japan right now, just letting you know.” I stared at my message for a long time, contemplating on sending it until my friend pushed my thumb to press the send button. Screaming, I smacked my friend upside the head and panicked. I paced around the room, and when my phone lit up with a new notification, I opened it and saw his reply, “That’s nice. I hope you get to do the things you’ve always wanted to do here.”

I was disappointed. I was expecting something along the lines of wanting to see me or meeting up. My friend looked at me with something akin to pity and it pissed me off. I was about to kick him in the shin when he handed me a ticket. It was a ticket to a Sexy Zone concert tomorrow. It wasn’t in my plan to go there, and I wasn’t even a hardcore fan, just casually stanning and I only knew a few songs here and there and only knew the members by the tweets I saw from the people I follow. But I accepted it, since these things didn’t come everyday.

I went with my friend the next day and I really had fun. They were really entertaining, from their songs and their dances up to the MC parts. I even got LSS on one song they sang. My friend insisted on staying a little bit because a lot of people were crowding the exit. I was scrolling through my phone when some staff approached us. I got so nervous because I thought they might accuse me of taking pictures and confiscate my phone, but they just asked for my seat number and popped a party popper in my face. They proceeded to tell me that I won a backstage pass and got to meet a member of my choosing. I was so surprised that I didn’t even respond for a good ten seconds (my friend counted, apparently). I still didn’t know what to say to that information until my friend spoke up for me. 

I found myself sitting in what looks like a lounge, face to face with none other than Sato Shori. What made me confused was he looked more nervous than I was, which was funny because an idol should be used to fans, right? But there he was, sitting stiffly and couldn’t even look at me. Not that I was better, I was awestruck by his beauty, even when he was just wearing a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. The mere fact that I was in front of someone whose face was deemed a national treasure, I couldn’t utter a single word. 

A few agonizing minutes later, he spoke, “I-I’m Shota.”

“Aren’t you Shori?”

He stuttered something under his breath, and struggled to pull something out of his pocket. He scrolled through his phone and showed me his screen. I recognized it a second later. It was my conversation with Shota, but from his point of view. I couldn’t believe it. I looked at him and at the phone back and forth, piecing everything together. I had a lot of questions and he explained what he could. I think I started crying halfway. Maybe in relief or happiness, or something different, who knows? I just realized I finally met my friend whom I’ve been talking to for two years, and turned out he was an idol. A very famous one at that. I didn’t know what to do now that I knew his identity, but I really hoped we could still be friends.

I went home (my friend’s) and sat down and asked my friend to explain what just happened. Apparently, they were friends in high school and stayed in touch. He also jokingly gave my contact info to Shori and messaged me. What a small world. 

  
  


I had no intentions of messaging Shota—wait, it’s Shori— and didn’t even know if I still had the right to. Until one day long after the event, I got a message: “Hey, we’re still friends, right?”

I could cry right then and there. He still considered us as friends. We started to talk again, but without the guarded wall from having to keep secrets, and I couldn’t ask for more.


End file.
